Need
by DrGinger35
Summary: Nadia Elizabeth Lark. She's normal, she's happy, she's not expecting life to change. She has a wonderful boyfriend, a great family and she loves them all dearly. That is...until Loki shows up. Join Nadia as her life flips upside down, you'll never be the same. Rated T for intense subjects (starvation, isolation, dehydration, etc.) Loki/OC
1. Prologue

Part 1: Catch and Release

Prologue

Dead and gone, and I may never get them back, I may never see beyond this door except out my window.

Hunger. Thirst. I couldn't stop thinking about what a nice meal would be like. A glass of water…If only a drop…

The fifth day I didn't move. I didn't sleep. I didn't even think. This was it, I was dying. He was going to be my murderer too. Great, but why? Why? Why? _Why?_


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Fall, my favorite time of year. The leaves were all over the place, and the crunching sound of their crackling under my feet made me smile. Ryan was holding my hand, it was warm and strong and safe. The air was crisp and the wind bit my nose. But as long as he held my hand nothing bad could ever happen. We got to his car and got in. Work time.

He owned a truck, a bright red truck. He drove me home from work everyday in that truck. Sometimes we'd get coffee and a cookie, sometimes we'd just sit in silence, exhausted from the day, or sometimes we'd park at our favorite spot overlooking Needlepoint creek and watch the sunset. Cliché, corny, sweet, glorious, and normal.

My mother was my best friend, though. Kate Faith Lark, my mother, my friend, the best cookie baker, the worst family reunion softball player, and my rock. My father was my pal, the one who'd roll in the mud or hit me in the stomach with a paintball. He was, beside Ryan, the best man I'd ever known. He treated my brother and I like equals, he was our teacher and our buddy. Nicholas Jacob Lark was my father, my ally, my secret keeper, my encouragement, my soul. My 3 years younger brother, Mickey Chase Lark, never took a hint. I'd leave him for five minutes and a Mickey tornado would come through. But he was my lifeblood, the humor, the comedy act, the class clown. I never gave up on him and he never ceased to amaze me when he'd be by my side, even if I was wrong. He was my spark, my boost up, the funniest guy I knew, and the closest guy to me my whole life.

I worked for a computer company called Prams in software basics. It was an easy nine-to-five with good pay, and I liked it so why not? Ryan was an engineer, and worked for an architectural company called Builders Best. He hated it, but it paid well. The nighttime was our favorite time, though. Movies, restaurants, gaming, hanging out, getting take-out, the list could go on forever. We were soul mates through and through, and I'd never thought it was possible to have someone so close that you could say how you feel and they'd listen. Ryan Christian North wasn't just my boyfriend, he was my world, and one without him would be very dark indeed.

October. I was 25. It was a Tuesday, family dinner night. Ryan was going separately in his truck and I'd take my little Honda. Mickey would even come home from college in Pennsylvania. I signed out of the computer system and grabbed my bag and keys with their little flower keychain, from Ryan when we went to homecoming freshman year. The picture of my great grandma Judy, long gone, reminded me that Aunt Tracy's birthday was in two weeks. What was I getting her again? The drive to my parents was not long, and very uneventful. I got to the driveway of my old house, a place of so many wonderful memories, and noticed both Mickey and Ryan's cars in the driveway.

But there was a problem. The house was completely dark.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I got out of my car and walked anxiously to the front door. It was ajar, slightly, and so I opened it. The darkening sky behind me made the silence of the house even more eerie as I entered, my heart pounding. I went into the living room and all that was there were a pair of shoes, my fathers, and a coffee cup, probably my mothers. I picked it up, and held it to my nose. The liquid was still hot.

Then I heard a clatter of dishes and I jumped, almost shouting. My breathing became elevated, and anxious fear made me shake as I clenched my teeth. I barely blinked. I cautiously crept to the dining room, with my knees shaking and my head spinning. I stepped into my childhood dining room, a place where thanksgiving dinner, Christmas breakfast, birthdays, and anniversaries were held, where precious memories would be tainted as now I was only able to look upon the table and scream. My mother, father, brother, and boyfriend were all lying perfectly still, as if they were sound asleep.

But they weren't asleep. I knew they weren't because sleeping people didn't wear knives in their chests, surrounded by pools of blood. I subconsciously blinked rapidly, mouth hanging open as I immediately stepped back hitting the back wall. I covered my mouth with my hands as I doubled over and began to cry. My sobs poured out and I cried louder and louder, then screaming, wondering what, why, who?! But I was silenced, as the crash of a glass turned my attention to the kitchen. I was immediately calm, and my jaw was clenched so hard my teeth began to hurt. I slowly, step by step crept to the kitchen, slowly opened the door, and slowly stepped in. My eyes darted everywhere, but only the dark kitchen lay before me, ominous, as if it were purposely hiding the murderer of those who I loved so dearly. I took in a breath and went to the kitchen drawer where I knew my mother kept her butcher knife. I pulled it out and held it in front of me. I glanced around frantically, breathing loudly, knowing at any moment a deranged killer was going to come out of nowhere and-

What was that?! A thump! It came from the pantry! I shook violently, put the knife in front of me with quivering hands and approached it. I reached the handle and grasped it, took a shallow breath, and flung open the door!


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

But there was no one there, only the shelves of cans and boxes that lay quietly. Silence fell over the kitchen, a silence that was anxiously waiting to be broken, held with a baited breath.

Then suddenly a voice spoke. It was rich, quick and very, very frightening for the humor in the tone of the voice didn't suit the broken suspense.

"Guess who?" And then hands covered my mouth and took the knife. Then suddenly a man appeared in front of me—out of thin air. No, literally, he didn't walk in, or jump out. He simply _appeared_. He smiled, his ice white teeth and sharp canines making my skin crawl. He was no man, or anything like a human. He had dark hair, darker than the darkest night, but in contrast to his hair was his fair pale skin, that stretched itself into a cruel smile, as his eyes, with their striking pale green showed nothing but shadows, deceit, threats and danger. The man behind me turned me around to face him. It was the same man. The same exact—as if they were twins. They both wore green, but their clothes were not like clothes regular people would ever wear. They were fantasy clothes, they were strange and other-worldly. I started to tear up and then scream but he only smiled and covered my mouth again.

"Shh, it's alright, go to sleeeep." He whispered gently but then he was gone and hey it's dark in here-

I blacked out.

I awoke in a leather desk chair. It wasn't my house, or my parent's house, nor anywhere familiar; I had no idea where I was. I wasn't tied to the chair either. What happened? Why was I here? Where's Ryan-wait. Then it all came back to me. He was dead. My parents were dead, my brother was dead. They were all _dead!_ Nothing mattered now because I remembered that strange terrible man and their dead forms lying on my childhood dining room table, daggers in their hearts.

My mind began to turn and I trembled, going mad! By what means did my loved ones meet their ends? Did that wretched assassin hide until they were all together so that he could commit the crime all at once, did he tie them up and stab them while each watched the other, did he make them stab_ each other_? My head screamed these questions, swarming on the violently cruel productions of this mans visage of vulgarity.

"WHY?!" I yelled loud enough for the world to hear my pain.

"You're valuable." The humor dripped off his voice, causing me to cringe and turn away from the direction from which it came.

"Who are you?" I cried. The man suddenly appeared in an identical leather chair in front of me, legs draped over the armrest as he examined me with the corners of his mouth perpetually in a knowing smile of merciless anger. The room was not lit except for a bright light over me, so it was hard to see him with the shadows outlining the features of his perfectly evil face. He was there, in his green clothes, and his dark black hair. He was staring at me, smiling that devilish smile, and I stared back with the loathing of a thousand hungry tigers.

"Tell me about yourself, _Nadia_. Where do you work?" He smiled. He never stopped smiling, as if the smile was permanently stained on his face.

"Why do you want to know that? What do you want?!" He rolled his eyes at my hysteria as if I was being an utter ignoramus.

"Well if I know you name and I murdered people you care about then I probably know almost everything about you. In fact I know the answer to the question I asked you, but I guess you're too stupid to know the answer yourself so I'll tell you. You work at Prams Computer Innovations, a software company. You do simple things on computers. That's why." he frowned for the first time, however only briefly as he put his legs on the ground and sat straight in his chair.

"What?" He put his hand to his face and then ran it through his hair, he was getting frustrated.

"If I knew you were this stupid I would have killed you as well." I gritted my teeth.

"Why do you need me?"

"Why do I need you?" He chuckled, "Guess." Then he became perfectly still in his chair and then another one pf him, a copy appeared in front of me.

"And I suggest you stop being stupid. It's getting on my nerves." He walked away and the other him in the chair disappeared.

"You- you have no right to do this to me!" I started to cry again.

"Who are you? _What_ are you?! Why did you do all this!? I HATE YOU! YOU MURDERER!"

A hand covered my mouth.

"Who am I? I'm Loki Laufeyson, King of Asgard and Midguard. I am a GOD! AND YOU ARE A SIMPLE HUMAN WHO IS NOTHING MORE THAN A MERE BUG ASKING QUESTIONS AND SCREAMING AT ME." A second him was screaming at me, two inches away from my face, our noses so close they could have touched if I had breathed harder. I was frightened, and he was furious. The wrinkles of anger in his eyebrows and nose creased and decreased every time he breathed. He began to walk away again and the 'Loki' that was covering my mouth disappeared.

I regained my courage, yes I must fight back. I must survive if only to avenge my family.

"A king wouldn't murder innocent people. A king wouldn't tell someone they were lower than dirt. A GOD wouldn't lie and kidnap and do everything you've-"

I didn't finish, how could I, when a fist to my cheek abruptly ended my speech. He knocked me out of my chair and watched me roll on the ground. He stood over me, frowning at my pitiful form.

"Foolish girl." I lay on the ground clutching my jaw. He lifted me up, his hands colder than ice.

"Don't talk back to me or you will regret it. Do we have and understanding?" I nodded. He shook me and then dropped me to the ground where I huddled into myself afraid of him kicking me again.

"Get up." I did, not looking at him.

"Follow me." his voice was monotone and angry, he was thinking of other things.

I followed him to a room bathed in green, with a small bed and a side door.

"This is your room. Stay in here. You have no choice." He chuckled,

"It will be locked anyway." I entered and sat down on the bed, it was soft.

"Give me your shoes."

"Why?"

"Don't make me repeat myself." I slipped my Chuck Taylors off and placed them on the ground beside the bed. He telekinetically brought them to his hand.

"So you don't escape by using your laces or anything." It made no sense, but how could I not comply.

"What are you?" I asked again hoping he would answer and not hurt me.

"I've already told you, Nadia. I am a god. The God of Lies."


	5. Chapter 4

I didn't sleep that night, how could I? I was filled with anxiety and fear, mainly fear that ate me up and swallowed me whole. I feverishly shook as I sat in the empty room with it's dark walls and small bed. I sat by the door and waited, waited and waited for a noise, a shift, for any sign that he was going to come in and kill me in cold blood as he had done to my family.

My head couldn't get the picture of my mother's dead, unmoving eyes out of my memory even if I tried to think of something else. All cold, stone cold and frozen, never to move again. My mother's hands would never bake another turkey for thanksgiving, my father's voice would never greet me with a friendly,

"Hey, Nadia-girl! Missed you so much, how are you?!"

My brother would never finish college and become the great engineer he'd always dreamed of being. But most of all, my Ryan would never hold me again, never say,

"I love you, Nadia Lark."

He'd never smile his straight, white, beautiful smile...that smile brought tears to my eyes now as I force myself to tear my thoughts away.

The dawn came up, bright, blazing and horrible after many hours of waiting, staring and crying. My family was dead, they died last night or last year, it didn't matter now because nothing mattered now. They were gone.

I was exhausted, and my fingers drummed endlessly on the wood floor. I expected Loki to come in or something, at least to see if I was alive.

Loki. What a weird name. A name belonging to a _cr_uel,_ evil, disgusting _individual who probably wouldn't let me live the week out.

Ryan. What a sweet name. There was nothing but tears once again when I thought of Ryan, though, so I kept him out of my mind, even if it was difficult.

Loki. What a horrible person. His unnatural features and his strange demeanor, not to mention the hatred I now felt for him. But he wasn't a person, was he? No, he wasn't human, he said it himself, he was a god. Or a monster.

Minutes dragged to hours, and still there was no sign of my captor. I sat and sat and sat on the hard floor, waiting, my stomach aching for food, but it was only noon of the second day! I was thirsty, too. I had to pee.

There was only one option left. I had to attempt to yell for him, at least the soothe my aching throat from the dehydration the crying had caused.

"Loki?" I whispered. No answer. He hadn't heard me. The door must be thick.

"Loki?" I said, but quietly. Silence filled my straining ears.

"Loki. Loki?" I said louder. Did I expect a response at this point!?

"Loki?!" I started to panic, what if he left me here to die?!

"Loki!" Nothing, he wasn't there, he probably wasn't even in the house. He probably wasn't even in this universe!

Wait, what if he was in the room right now?! My eyes frantically shifted around the room.

"Loki!? Loki, are you there!?" I began to pound on the door, my skin crawling.

"Loki! LOKI?! Loki! Open this door!" I went on like this for a while, maybe an hour. I cried loudly and then in a last effort, I screamed, bloodcurdlingly loud and still there was no answer from the other side of the wood.

I screamed and screamed and screamed until I had no voice left and I was exhausted once more, my body heaving with anguish, fear and hatred.

Help. HELP! That's all I could think, I didn't dare think of anything else. The quiet surrounded me once more as I cried silently, wondering why my tears hadn't already been spent.

"Help." I whispered, knowing I wouldn't receive an answer.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5  
After an hour of contemplating my situation, I began to simply knock on the door. Just a steady knock, knock, knock, knock, but there was never an answer.  
I was hungry beyond belief. I was thirsty beyond recognition. That's all I could think with each knock: hunger, thirst, hunger, thirst.

Day shifted to night, still no answers. The sun had set a long time ago, I think, the sun was certainly gone now. It had been a brilliantly bright red orange not an hour or so ago. But every moment was spent knocking and hoping. Soon my knuckles couldn't rap any more, so I just tapped with the tip of my finger. Tap, tap, tap…I couldn't sleep, I was too hungry. Every so often I would rasp,  
"Help."  
But no help would ever come.

Hours passed, and my eyes were barely open. I had them open nonetheless because of hunger, because of thirst and because of fear. The dawn was coming, the sky was that same orange from twelve hours ago. It was as if time was on a constant playback, fast forward, reverse, fast forward, reverse. Repetition? Perhaps, but perhaps that was his plan, to keep me repeating things until I went completely insane. Or I died.

Everything was changing. I had no energy left. Some moments I just sat still. Others I tapped. Some I would listen hard to make sure I was still breathing.  
With daylight came anger. Anger that caused fear and a waterfall of loud dry sobs and voiceless screams that no one heard. I nibbled on my sore knuckles, hunger fueling my madness. I whispered over and over,  
"Loki, Loki, Loki?"  
Finally I couldn't take it anymore. I dragged myself up, pulled myself toward the bed, and then rushed, shoulder first, at the door. I collapsed, my shoulder stinging as I dragged myself up once more. It was mad! I was behaving like a caged tiger, hoping something would give although I knew nothing would.  
I repeated this action over and over until I couldn't move. I cried, but no tears came out. How could they, I was thirsty enough to start experiencing mirages.  
I then crawled around the dark room. The hurling had made me even more tired. Just as I was about to collapse from utter exhaustion I found that a door I thought was locked was actually not. It was a bathroom. No it wasn't. It was a toilet and a bottle of hand sanatizer, but showers could wait, couldn't they?

How clever of him, not to provide me with a source of hydration...but a toilet was a miracle!  
That was it. But I'd never yelled with more joy.  
After relieving myself I went back to crawling, getting up, and running at the door.

How many days had passed? One night. One day. One night. One day. One night. This was the third day.  
And it was ending.  
Three days, no food, no water, no friends, no love and nothing but a murderous deranged lunatic as my keeper; how could it get any worse?


End file.
